


sugar rush

by fleuravis



Series: with nothing on my tongue but hallelujah [3]
Category: Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them (Movies)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Bathing/Washing, Begging, Birthday Sex, Blindfolds, Coming Untouched, Credence Barebone Crying During Sex, Daddy Kink, Dom/sub Undertones, Forced Orgasm, Humiliation, I had to tag that because it's REAL, Light Bondage, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Nipple Play, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Overstimulation, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Prostate Milking, Teasing, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-24
Updated: 2018-09-24
Packaged: 2019-07-16 13:29:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,771
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16087058
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fleuravis/pseuds/fleuravis
Summary: Tonight, on what Percy has christened his make-up-birthday, Credence's pleas take on a new meaning. His tears taste sweet.—set in the band AU but can be read as a stand-alone PWP





	sugar rush

**Author's Note:**

  * For [RedFlagsAndDiamonds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFlagsAndDiamonds/gifts).



> this is for [RedFlagsAndDiamonds](https://archiveofourown.org/users/RedFlagsAndDiamonds/pseuds/RedFlagsAndDiamonds) who requested a oneshot of credence's birthday sex, which was briefly mentioned in cherry wine, with percy pushing cre right to his limits ;)
> 
> this is literally just 2771 words of pure porn, no plot whatsoever, and i'm not sorry at all
> 
> set between [forsaken heaven...](https://archiveofourown.org/works/15867486/) and [cherry wine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16039385/) but it can totally just be read as standalone porn!
> 
> <3

In Credence’s twenty years and one day of life, he’s begged for mercy more times than he can count. An endless catalogue of pleas and sobs, whether they were directed at Ma or at various school bullies, tormentors of his childhood, not caring whose ears they fell upon. Pride became a ridiculous concept; begging became a survival mechanism. There is no fight or flight. There is simply appeal.

Tonight, on what Percy has christened his make-up-birthday, Credence's pleas take on a new meaning. His tears taste sweet.

This is new, you see, this position he’s found himself in. More accurately, this position Percy has guided him into. Spread out on his back in their king sized bed, wrists bound together above his head with one of Percy’s only two ties. The other is looped around his head, covering his eyes, the dark silk rendering him entirely blind. He’s naked and vulnerable, shivering under the bright lights of the room. Percy will rest at nothing to make him feel exposed.

He’s chewing at his lip, listening hard to the silent room. Percy walked out several minutes ago, leaving him anxious in wait for his return. He’s already hard just from the _implication_ of it all. Percy hasn’t even touched him yet, except to undress him and tie him up. Procedural and impassive.

There is still a dull ache buried deep inside of him and his face burns at the emergence of any memory from last night. Not only was it Percy’s first time fucking him, it was his first time touching inside Credence at all. The first time anyone or anything has been inside of him. He's thought about it, of course, in the rare moments where he's given in to frustration and touched himself, his fingertips ghosting down towards his entrance, that sacred and covert place, one he's only dreamed of touching. But he would always jerk his hand away at the last moment, breathing hard, head spinning. It was always too much. Not worth the retribution.

He shudders at the vivid memories of the first time, deftly recalled. Percy’s fingers so deep in his body, feeling him, feeling his insides, the parts of himself that nobody else can ever touch. That nobody ever will.

Selfishly, he wants more. His body is greedy, not easily sated, that much has been clear for quite a while. But now it’s taken a turn for the extreme. Now he’s been handed this new sensation on a silver platter and he can’t breathe with his longing for it. He wants to be filled. He wants to be split apart. He needs Percy to tie him down, not just bind his wrists, keep him immobile and frozen, needs Percy to control and care for him because he's terrified of what he'll do if he's given free reign with this fresh source of pleasure. He's afraid he won't know where to stop.

It isn’t the door he hears first, nor the footsteps, but the shift in the air. Percy’s presence. He would recognize it anywhere, blinded or not. He tenses on the bed, holding his breath. Waiting. He can feel the tip of his cock beading with precum and he curses himself inwardly. He hasn’t even been _touched._ Simply the thought of it, Percy’s body so close to his… it’s enough.

The first sensation is one fingertip slowly dragging up the length of him, the root to the very tip, pressing gently into the slit, causing him to well up quickly. His mouth gapes and he strains forward, letting out a rattling breath. The touch is so light, so excruciatingly soft that it almost hurts.

“Credence,” Percy says from somewhere close to his side. “You’ve waited so patiently for me. What would you like, baby?”

Credence whines feebly, turning his face toward the sound of Percy’s voice. “Touch me?”

“I am touching you,” the man murmurs, fingertip still ghosting slowly up and down the line of his cock. Barely touching, just moving the air around it. Enough to send shivers up Credence’s spine. It’s infuriating and so, _so_ good.

“Daddy,” he moans, “Please.”

Percy hums at the name and his fingers trail down to where Credence’s balls are tightly drawn, cupping them and squeezing just barely. Freshly shaved this morning, rubbed with soft lotion, the boy is doted on more than he’d ever dreamed of. He shakes under Percy’s hands, begging with his voice and his body and everything he can manage.

“What do you want, Credence?”

His breath escapes him at that. Such a simple question, so delicately posed, and yet so difficult to answer. Credence doesn’t know what he wants. He never does. It always feels like a trick question. Percy likes to toy with him like that.

“Wanna cum,” he whimpers finally, “Please.”

Percy exaggerates his consideration, a long sound floating under his breath, and Credence nearly throws his head back with frustration. He’s asking so nicely, he’s being so _good_ , what else can he do? 

And then he feels wet heat on the head of his cock and his breath hitches. Percy mouths at him, not quite taking him in, just pressing wet kisses and licks down the length of him. He moves lower, suckling gently at his balls and then Credence is coming without friction, without anything to pull him through it, his cock bobbing helplessly and spurting across his belly and chest. His breath comes out in shaky little gasps and then Percy is kissing him, one hand cupping his cheek tenderly.

“My baby,” he whispers, “My sweet Credence. I love you.”

“I love you,” Credence says weakly, body still rolling through the aftershocks. A strange sensation, coming with nothing on his dick, nothing to guide him along. 

“I want to give you so much more,” Percy murmurs, and then there’s a slick finger at his entrance, and he still hurts inside but it doesn’t matter because it feels so good and it’s _Percy._ He fingers him slowly, gently, and Credence wishes he could see his face, wishes he could watch the man’s expressions. Always so curious, fixed on his, taking in every reaction.

He’s sensitive but he knows he can come again. He’s still hard, his erection not even given a chance to wane. Percy works around his prostate, not yet directing his attention to that delicate spot. Credence yearns for it, eyelids fluttering behind his blindfold when he remembers last night, the feeling of Percy’s cock buried inside him, pounding into that spot, unrelenting. 

He wants it, wants it rough, but Percy is being so infuriatingly gentle. Another finger slips inside and it burns in a delicious way. Percy curls them and then — 

Credence starts, hips jumping, as Percy presses hard against that spot. It’s like something is set on fire inside him and he can’t even moan, can’t make a sound, just holds his breath as Percy works it relentlessly and though he can’t see the man’s face, he can feel his eyes, his steady gaze. Watching him.

“Does it feel good, Credence?” His voice is so smooth and strong and Credence swoons at the sound.

“Yes,” he says, practically mouthing it, voice hardly working.

“Come for me.”

And he does, untouched for the second time, feeling his cock pulsing as it shoots out over his body, over the dried remnants of his last orgasm. And then Percy’s other hand is rubbing it into his skin, massaging over his belly, just firm enough to be uncomfortable, while he keeps prodding at his prostate. When the waves settle it’s too much, he’s too sensitive, and he tries to twist out of Percy’s hands.

“Too much,” he gasps, “Please—”

Percy’s lips are on his again, tongue pushing past his teeth, hand not relenting. 

“You can take it, puppy,” he says into his mouth, “Just relax.”

But he can’t, it’s too intense, this deep and unsettling pleasure. He squirms and yelps as Percy thrusts more insistently.

“Please,” he sobs, “At least— can you—”

“What do you need, baby?” Percy prompts, “Tell me.”

“Can you,” his breath is rapid and shaky. “I need your hand, please, I need…”

“Tell me where.”

“On my. On my dick.” Credence is flushed and whimpering. He’s trying so hard to be good. “Please.”

But all he had to do was ask. Percy encircles him in his smooth palm and pulls slow and firm and Credence’s mouth falls open, a litany of _thankyouthankyouthankyou_ pouring out as the throbbing within him recedes and that burning, familiar pleasure begins to build. 

“Percy…” he braces himself, nervousness fluttering in his heaving chest. “Will you fuck me, please?”

And then he’s being kissed, so deep and sweet, and he can feel Percy smiling against his mouth. He must already be naked because he doesn’t break away, not even for a second, before his skin is pressing to Credence’s, not minding the sticky mess all over his front. He pulls his fingers out gently but doesn’t let go of Credence’s dick, even though it must be uncomfortable to keep jerking him off between their bodies.

But Credence asked him to, so he does.

He feels the thick head of Percy’s cock against his entrance and goes dizzy with anticipation. He pushes in slowly, careful not to hurt him, though he goes in easier than the first time. Credence only tightens a little at the stretch but Percy soothes him, hand still pulling long strokes on his cock, pressing kisses all over his face.

His cock hits Credence’s prostate and Credence comes unexpectedly, hips stuttering, and Percy strokes him fast and hard, finally letting him ride out an orgasm fully and the combination of the two feelings sends him soaring. He knows he’s loud but he can’t even hear himself; the sensation is too much to pay attention to anything else. Barely anything comes out, his body so weak and empty, nothing left to offer.

Mercifully Percy lets go of his cock, which is soft and drained by now. He keeps fucking him, hands clutching his face, pressing their lips together. Credence feels him still, buried within him, mouth opening against his and gasping out his name.

Credence wants nothing more than to collapse with him, curl up and sleep for at least twelve hours, but there’s no way Percy is letting him go that easily. He pulls out, stroking his face soothingly when he winces at the withdrawal, and reaches up to untie Credence’s wrists.

He feels a wave of relief at being released. He rubs at his tender wrists and goes to take off his blindfold but Percy grabs his arm. 

“Not yet, puppy.”

Credence’s heart sinks. Percy sits back against the headboard and pulls him into his lap, their sweet and familiar position, but Credence has had _enough._

“Percy,” he pleads, “I can’t. No more. Please.”

Percy says nothing, just settles him in between his legs and waits until he surrenders, going slack in his arms. Then he grabs Credence’s soft and pitiful dick, tugging at it fruitlessly.

“I _can’t,_ ” Credence says again, voice rather miserable. It’s embarrassing, really — he feels so open and exposed. He wants to curl up but Percy keeps him spread apart in his lap.

“Three times is the most I’ve ever gotten from you,” Percy muses, “I think I can top that.”

“Not for lack of trying,” Credence mutters. His insides ache. So does his cock.

“Hm,” Percy says, amused, “Don’t be a brat.”

“I’ve been good,” Credence whimpers, “I’m trying to be good.”

Thankfully, Percy’s hand finally leaves his cock alone, trailing up instead to his nipples, small and pert on his chest. They’re sensitive, they become even more so after he comes. Percy pinches and twists them lightly and Credence breathes out slow, trying to control himself. His entire body feels electric, every nerve lit up, on the verge of detonation. His cheeks sticky with drying tears, eyes welling up freshly every time Percy presses too hard. Those talented fingers work him up so easily, switching between pinching and tugging at his nipples and rubbing them gently in tiny circles until he’s pleading, begging him to stop. But Percy doesn’t, and soon enough he’s writhing in a strange kind of pain, one born purely from oversensitivity and exhaustion.

“Percy,” he breathes, “ _Please._ ”

His chest is stinging, pinpricks in each of his nipples, and every time Percy flicks his fingers overtop it’s like he’s being electrocuted to the very core. Percy digs his thumbnails hard into the nubs and Credence hisses with pain, head shooting forward off of the man's shoulder, trying to escape his hold.

Percy finally, _finally_ lets his hands drop away, Credence’s nipples smarting, chin drooped onto his chest. They trail down to where his dick lies, still soft against his thigh. Any other time, Percy playing with his nipples alone could be enough to make him come — but he can’t get hard again, he just _can’t._ No matter how much Percy wants him to.

He feels a hand encircle his dick again and he groans, falling back onto Percy’s shoulder. Percy massages him slowly, fitting all of Credence in the palm of his hand. Credence’s face burns. Another hand dips down beneath his balls and pushes inside of him. He’s not very tight anymore, open and slick, and Percy slips inside easily.

Right away, his finger curls into Credence’s prostate, the swollen spot sending his body into overdrive. Percy presses into him rhythmically, his other hand playing with his dick, rolling his balls between his fingers. It’s humiliating. It’s intoxicating.

“Can’t come again,” he mumbles, feeling only a ghost of pleasure.

“You can,” Percy says, very matter-of-fact. Like he doesn’t doubt himself, not even for a second.

For what must be at least ten minutes they stay there, Percy steadily working his prostate and toying with his pathetic cock, which still refuses to harden in the slightest. Credence feels something building inside him, something far removed from pleasure, insistent and dizzying. 

And then Percy pulls off his blindfold and he’s kissing his jaw, whispering pacifying words against his skin, working his soft cock encouragingly as cum begins to dribble out. It isn’t an orgasm, not quite, but Credence watches in amazement as the white fluid flows steadily from his limp cock, his stomach clenching rhythmically, Percy’s one hand massaging him, nurturing, while the other still works the innermost parts of him. 

When there’s nothing left, when he’s drained for all he has, Percy finally, _finally_ lets him out of his binding grasp. He stands, pulling Credence into his arms like a baby, kissing his head and carrying him to the bathroom, where he runs a warm bath while Credence sits on the countertop, shivering. He glances down at his chest where his nipples stand out, dark pink and swollen, stark against his milky skin. 

Percy tests the water and then beckons him in. He’s dressed in a tee shirt and boxers now, hair smoothed back, and Credence swoons at the sight of him. He gets in the bath gingerly, the warm water feeling simultaneously calming and overwhelming. He sinks in and closes his eyes, tipping his head back against the tiles and breathing out slowly. Percy washes his hair and his overworked body, gentle and so caring. Credence feels absurdly close to tears.

After his bath, Percy wraps him in a big towel and hugs him for a long time. Credence feels like a baby. He wants to stay wrapped up forever in Percy’s arms.

“Happy birthday,” Percy says quietly, lips against Credence’s hair, rocking him slowly.

Percy dresses him in briefs and a soft tee shirt, though even that feather-light material sets his nipples on fire with every brush. He winces and Percy kisses his head. 

“Sorry, puppy. Might take a day or two for those to feel better.”

Credence whines weakly but lets himself be put to bed. As much as it hurts, as much as it makes him cringe and struggle to appear normal, he secretly basks in the idea of being able to feel Percy for as long as possible. He can already imagine it, going through his day tomorrow, the rest of the world unaware — but he will know. In the way his shirt will rub painfully against his sensitive, abused nipples. In the way his ass will ache with every step in that deep, dull way. In the way his wrists will bruise from their restraints.

In the way Percy will look at him, that cunning and smug expression, like the secret they share is the most riveting story that they will never tell.

**Author's Note:**

> [i'm still taking prompts for this universe - hit me up on tumblr](http://cannibalteacups.tumblr.com)


End file.
